Russia: where nothing ever goes according to plan.

Things happen in Russia that don’t need to happen; but they just do, whether you like it or not.

Our washing machine is located in our kitchen. So I went to do laundry, and opened the door, of course. Our kitchen door has no handle, so you can’t shut it too hard or you have to stick your finger into the key hole and pull to open it, which kind of sucks. However, today both big windows in the kitchen were open and a hefty breeze was coming through (though I don’t know how, as I’m two windows down and have NO breeze). So I walk in, close the door, and put my laundry in, start the machine, all as I usually do. I go to leave and realize the door is stuck, really stuck. I try to pull at it with my finger, no luck. I try these little rubber pieces to the laundry machine, no luck. I try a chair leg, didn’t fit. Of course our kitchen has nothing helpful and no one really uses it except to smoke, boil milk, and now do laundry (we just got machines maybe in March.. Oh and get this, they had machines all throughout the dorm last year and at the end of the year they took them away, hoping the students would forget about them so that the ladies working in the dorm could just take them home. Oh the stories we have from this damn dorm..) SO, I sort of waited, starting to get a bit worried because I realized I could be stuck there forever, until someone came in to smoke at midnight… Thankful the migrant workers saved me. They’re remodeling the room next to the kitchen for an Iranian family that’s coming. They walked by and I yelled for them to please open the door. They pushed it open and the look on their faces was so confused and even a bit scared. I thanked them gratefully. I will now excuse their loud, obnoxious drilling at all, yet random hours and days.

In other news I have major mosquito bites all over my body. The Mosquitos here are some breed of crazy and can supposedly bite through clothing, which I now fully believe. It doesn’t help that outside our dorm the water pipe has a major leak, and I mean like a fluid stream coming out of it. It’s been leaking since Feb, which probably explains our lack of hot water. But recently, it’s become the hot spot for mosquito reproduction. Yesterday they “worked” on it for a bit and now it just drips. #progress

Friday night we went to this beer pong tournament at a local bar and hung out with the local hipsters, average age: 21. If anything, the last few months here have made me feel really old and I seem to find myself at events like these with people way younger than me. Also, these people do not know how to play beer pong, or more like they do not follow any rules including the elbow rule; they practically were shooting from half table, defeating so many purposes of the game. Us foreigners were playing and they kept trying to move the our cups, in the middle of our game. I did a bit of yelling. They also had these really crappy tables; on one it was written “Astrakhan Association of Beer Pong”. This place is killing me.

Saturday we went to one of the clubs, where I had my last moment of endurance for the same twenty songs that clubs, or the DJs put on repeat. Then they brought all the local “journalists” on stage, thanking them for their wonderful pictures. All at once they all started snapping away, flashing lights everywhere. This was hilarious, mainly because Russians have a good obsession with photography, taking pictures of everything, everywhere. There’s this one company throughout Russia called Geometria, and they attend all local events taking nine million pictures. You can’t avoid them if you want to, and often you do.

Pev-Pong

Paparazzi in Dair

Sunday I went to one of my student’s house and her mom taught me how to make Borscht… Watch out America, Borscht is coming..

Monday I gave away four bags and one suitcase of my belongs to a homeless shelter.
There’s still more to give away.

A market for educational necessities.. And that doesn’t mean books.

A lack in writing results from a change in mentality.
I suppose things have just changed around here. It seems that things that weren’t typical have now become typical, or that perhaps I have simply learned to just deal with certain things. I’m tired; I’m worn out. Regardless of a churning desire to leave immediately, I already clearly understand that upon leaving I will greatly miss this place – the horribly wonderful paradox that is Russia, and by Russia I mean non-Piter, non-Moscow Russia, because after living here I’ve realized how big the difference is and how wide the distance from reality.

While things are winding up, the work is still piling up. I took up an editing gig for the director of the Department of Foreign Languages. I am editing a 70 page text on the Kremlins of Russia: Pskov, Uglich, and Astrakhan. Needless to say, whoever did the Russian to English translation was really lazy, and I’m only on page four.

Things have almost ended completely at the university, even though according to some (mainly colleagues), we still have lots of time left. However the halls are bare, over twenty students have already taken their exams and many have left for home or America on work-study. I’ve been holding a lot more casual lessons. I’ve shown most of my students Jazz Chants and played Apples to Apples – a huge hit.

Over the last few weeks I have had a lot of personal issues with the university system. This is a system based on personal likes, dislikes, and desires, where regardless of how much students do or do not work, their fate is determined by higher authorities. I’m quite sick of teachers sitting in the faculty room, gossiping about students, whom I know well and whom I know have a lot of potentional but are brought down by this stifling system and its teachers, who are not here to encourage learning, but rather to force what they think is best for the student.

Its quite common for students to be able to buy their diplomas, exams, papers, pay off teachers for grades, etc. There is one student in the dorm who joked that he can’t write his own diploma because he’s too busy writing others’. There was some market today at our university and we joked about the ability to buy there all the exams, teachers, etc that you may need at the end of your year. But that’s the reality of Russia and there have been countless examples of teachers not liking students and giving them bad grades just to get money from them.

Unfortunately, my department is not such. I say unfortunately because I’ve recently learned the necessity to be able to buy these things. Sometimes you just can’t control who likes you. One of my favorite students had this problem and now he doesn’t know if he’ll return back to the university, or even Russia. He planned to go to America for work and travel this summer. He had his flight, visa, everything. He asked to take his exams early and one of my colleagues wouldn’t let him. Why? Because she doesn’t like him. This happened literally three days before he was supposed to leave. She controlled everything; if she didn’t allow him, then no one else would. And she didn’t. So what was he to do? He couldn’t bribe her, and bribing anyone else would do no good. If he didn’t take his exams then upon returning next year he would have to join the army or enroll in another department. Conceptually, I got so mad about this situation. He’s one of my mot talented students. Not that he gets good grades necessarily, he has average grades, but he has the actual passion for English and American culture and he has the ability to think, which so many students lack here. Perhaps it’s for the better that this happened… He can just stay in America; if only it was that easy..

What do you get when you mix Rap, Four Leaf Clovers, Fulbrighters, and Camels?

Answer: Rikki’s past week in Russia.

There is just so much to discuss and I need to go about it in an orderly and chronological fashion.

Last Friday I attended the concert of the popular rap group Kasta.  In all honesty I love this group and listen to their music quite often, but I hesitantly went to the concert thinking it would be really wild and crazy, or something.

It rocked.. I mean seriously it was really good. The place was full, though it’s a small venue and typically a night club. These guys are talented. Not only do they write (okay perhaps they don’t write their music, I’m not sure, but whatever), but they can roll those Russian words. And they had a really good show: playing with the crowd, conversing amongst themselves, telling jokes, and at one point making everyone crouch down and then jump when they counted to three.  They all have nicknames, or “show” names, and many of the attendees knew them.  I’d overall everyone seemed to enjoy the show and rocked out; except that typical girl next to me who looked as bored as ever and just sort of stood there and starred.  Hey, perhaps she was having a good time.

In case you’re interested to hear what Russian rap sounds like:

 

Last Saturday we headed to the local pub: “Bier Haus”, where they were having a slightly tardy St. Patrick’s Day party.  They had Irish dancing, live music with a killer violinist, and some trivia. It was a typical Russian event celebrating some foreign culture. We had a good time eating, having a few beers, and hanging out. The band was also really good and I impressed with the singer’s English. Afterwards I met him (Ilya) and found out he had spent three consecutive summers in South Dakota on work/travel and had an American girlfriend; killer American accent. Russians: this is how you learn English

   

  

On Sunday morning I left for Rostov to meet some Fulbrighters on a Community College exchange.  I was supposed to escort one of them back to Astrakhan and help him out in town.  I happily went, as I had never been to Rostov before.  I spent two days sort of wandering around, took an exam, hung out with Oksana, and ate some really good food.  Oh Fulbright.  The city was nice, from what I saw.  A great embankment, an enchanted pedestrian street filled with little cafes and shops.  Oksana grew up here, but was back now only for the first time in five years.  She said a lot had changed and it was weird for her to have returned to her hometown after so long.  The city is a lot bigger than Astrakhan, over double the size; yet, the difference was both visible and unnoticeable.  What I did notice was the increase in shops and variety.  They had a lot of chain restaurants, which are almost non-existant in Russia and so many different types of shops and cafes.  Yet the feel of the city was similar, and I viewed Rostov as almost a more developed, hillier Astrakhan.  I would have liked to spend a few more days there, as I feel there’s  a lot I missed.

 

  

More pictures can be found here, courtesy of the wondrous Oksana!

Last but not least I traveled on Saturday to this amazing little plot of land they call Saray Batu.  It’s located two hours to the north of Astrakhan and in the middle of the steppe.  On the way there we had traditional Easter cakes, or Kuhlich.  It’s like this mini pastry, really dry with rasins inside it and covered with frosting and sprinkles.  Not my type of cake.

Evgenia cutting the Kuhlich

We then stopped by a Muslim cemetery. I’m not sure what it is about them, but after my first visit to St. Petersburg in 2007 and my first visit to some of the most gorgeous cemeteries, I fell in love with them.  Really they are just the coolest places, especially foreign ones.  The ones in Russia have great tombstones with clear, colorful pictures, or interesting handmade grave markers.  In St. Petersburg I broke off from our tour group and just wandered amongst them, checking out all of the artwork and enjoying the peaceful atmosphere.  Although at bit ironic, these really are the most calm of places.  I had never been to a Muslim cemetery before, so I was very excited when we “ran into” this one.

      

  

Essentially, Saray Batu is a recreated Mongol village as it would have been in the 13th century.  Now they use the location to film movies. It really was just placed in the middle of no where.  We were driving though this road that goes through the steppe, then our driver just turned off into what looked like a big, dead field and suddenly this structure emerged into view. First we toured the tents, one which is filled with all the goodies of the 13th century: pots, blankets, rugs, etc.

   

Then we toured the village, which was really neat and so real-like I quickly understood why they chose to film there.  I didn’t quite understand what the village was made of of, but it looked at though it was straw then covered with clay.  It was really dusty there, so clay would have been reasonable.  The other American and I noted how it reminded us of a Pueblo in the South West, as the architecture seemed similar.  Granted, I have never been there so perhaps I am way wrong, but that’s the impression I got.   A nice gentleman gave us a mini-tour, showing us the water mill and the slave trade locations.  There was a couple in traditional 13th century gear, but they really didn’t look like Mongols so we didn’t stick around to take pictures with them.

    

    

  

When we first arrived at Saray Batu I noticed them immediately… CAMELS. I was psyched.  I still remember when I first researched Astrakhan and I read something about camels being nearby.. I had found them!  After touring the village we made our way to the camels and I rode around on for a bit, as did Virginia.  The camel’s grazing area overlooked a beautiful river that was calling for me to swim in it.

       

Riding the camel was a weird experience.  Her name was Masha and she was definitely not comfortable.  She was really nice though, or I suppose well trained; she shed worse than a dog.   After checking this off the bucketlist, we had a great lunch of home-made plov and shashlik and headed back to town quite satisfied and relaxed…

A Sweet (Surprising!) Return!

I’m back! AGAIN.

I haven’t had a working personal computer in over three weeks, which has been frustrating for the blog-o-sphere, and other such endeavors.  However, I am now back in action, and life has been packed full of all sorts of good stuff, mainly classes. If last semester was leaving me somewhat bored and looking for things to do, this semester has forced me to deny private lessons and school trips as I just don’t have time.

So the month of March consisted of an overwhelming amount of lessons, a gap in my social life, and slush, mud, and snow.  The month of April started out with a great trip to Ufa, +15 degrees and sun, and a sudden perk in things to do on the weekend. Yet it also brought some unforeseen work; thus, I’ve ben struggling to efficiently manage the two.

UFA – it was this amazing gathering of fifteen Fulbrighters.  Ufa is located in the Bashkir Republic; here is a clear, concise map:

Coming from a southern city (I use this phrase with enjoyment as it now actually holds true) I was COLD. and being from Michigan I suppose I don’t often say that.  Anyways, regardless of the weather we had an amazing weekend, which can be summed up by bonding with our director, hanging out in the village of Krasnii Klyuch and trudging through the slush, watching an amazing performance of native Bashkir dance,  and seeing the most wonderful play ever – in Bashkir.

In other news, I returned to Astrakhan today from Rostov (more on that later as well), and found out that Astrakhan has erupted!  Essentially, in the March 4 elections a certain gentleman named Shein ran for the mayor of Astrakhan and lost to a member of United Russia.  However, Shein has declared a “Hunger Strike” against corruption and has now not eaten for more than four weeks.  Meanwhile, his supporters have found corruption in 17 voting districts through out Astrakhan.  Ironically enough, they need 25%, or approximately 51 districts to appeal the vote and the authorities are not granting them access to any more film.  People have become worried for Shein’s health and are angry at the restrictions on transparency imposed by the authorities.  SO what happens? People come to Astrakhan… lots of people.  The vkontakte group alone has over 700 members and there are messages regarding train tickets and free couches to sleep on.  Navalny, the famous anti-corruption blogger himself has made his appearance, and one of my students got her picture with him. Unfortunately I was still in Rostov and missed this meeting!  If you’re interested, my source was the following article by Kevin Rothrock: http://globalvoicesonline.org/2012/04/10/russia-astrakhan-becomes-oppositions-new-rallying-cause/

Also Navalny’s instagram has some staggering photos of Astrakhan:

inside the kremlin

he got called a hipster for this one

Coming up next: hopefully more on the Navalny gig, a short trip to Rostov, a Russian rap concert, and a month late celebration of St. Patty’s Day. Stay tuned.

It’s been awhile.  Simply because I don’t have a working computer. So bear with me as I void your lives of the wonderful pictures of Astrakhan.  To be honest, there’s not too much to look at quite yet… Just over a week ago we had 50′s and sun, with the entire city melting into one big puddle.  Now that was supposed to be an Astrakhan spring… jokes on us.  Today is in the 20′s, once again and we’ve had three more significant snowfalls within the last week.  And no sun.  It’s killing me.. what happened to this whole “southern city” ordeal?! Isn’t this spring supposed to happen on in St. Petersburg?!

Anyways, recently I’ve gone to the Astrakhan KVN premire.  KVN is the stand up comedy show, famous in Russia.  Most cities have their own KVN leagues and competition, and the winners get an opportunity to participate in a major competition in Moscow. I would compare it to Saturday Night Live. The comedians often start playing in KVN then move onto bigger comedy groups, like Komedi Klub or Nasha Russia.   I went, expecting to enjoy myself, maybe understand a bit, but nothing major.  However, I was shocked at what I understood.. practically everything.  I was laughing, without having to look at my friend and see if he was giving me the cue to laugh.  I knew what was going on, and understood many of the punch lines.. victorrrryyyy.  The jokes were generally centered around minorities, the upcoming elections, and Astrakhan winters.  There was a few about America.. one I didn’t appreciate too much.  This student appeared in front of a teacher and was asked to tell about America’s history.  The student began reciting different wars.. I think you understand the intonation here.  My friend looked over casually to see how I reacted; I just kept shaking my head.

the KVN group from a local Astrakhan region

Very great clip from Komedi Klub, most can understand even without Russian:

Then there was Women’s Day.  If I hate Valentines Day, I subsequently also despise the 8th of March, or Women’s Day.  They’re essentially the same thing except Russians are obessed with this holiday and it’s very important to give gifts and eat food and drink drink and take three days off.  Well I guess I wasn’t really in the gift-giving loop, and didn’t prepare anything.  I was angry with myself for not thinking of this before hand and bring back little gifts from America.. but alas. I ended up with four big boxes of chocolate.  Alas, the composition of my fridge is ketuchp and chocolate.

With this holiday, as most major Russian holidays, come scheduling conflicts.  Essentially we had Thursday, Friday, and Saturday off.  But because we took Friday off, we  had to make it up and work Sunday.  Logic?! Can anyone explain this logic?!  Then they were surprised when I was like, yeah we just take days off. period. isn’t that what a day “off” is for?  So, I had to work on Sunday.. which was werid..just being in a place where you’re not supposed to be. I didn’t like it one bit.  And it’s so confusing.. because well the kids went to school on Sunday too.. but not on Thursday, Friday, or Saturday.  So they make up one day out of the three?  confusionconfusionohwaitthisisrussiaconfusion.

Ilya gets a hamster, and other events from the past week.

Important events of the last week that all collided together into one big festive week:

Iliya Gets a Hamster: 

For most of February I lived in two places: my freeing cold dorm with its Soviet-style kitchen and a bathroom door handle that falls off every time you touch it, and then I also practically lived with my colleague Angelika and her family.  In fact, I have recently spent more time at Angelika’s than in the dorm.  Considering they have a very nice, warm apartment, great food, and a washing machine I think one can understand why.  Angelika’s family consists of: her, her husband Boris, Ilyia (11 yrs) and Kiril (16 yrs).  Babushka Svetlana is also often here, and they have a cat, Nora.  Oh, and me.

The point of this story is that Ilya got a hamster two days ago. So now there are seven of us in this small two bedroom apartment, and it’s quite comfortable.  Ilya named the hamster Ham.  Before Ilya got Ham, we had a great conversation about what we would name him: quarantine (on the basis that the school’s quarantine forced them to get the hamster), Harry (starts with an H..), Steak (Nora’s dinner), Beef-Steak (obviously a brainstorm off of steak), and Hammer (the influence of MC Hammer, of course).

In his 48 hours of life, Ham the hamster has been attacked by Nora twice, held by nine different people, swam in a plate of maccaroni, and got lost among the empty bottles and boxes on the counter.

Did you know, one year in human life is 25 years in hamster life.  Thus, Ham the hamster and I have a lot in common.

          

Maslenitsa:

So this is the Orthodox holiday, carnival, celebration in preparation for the big fast before Orthodox Easter.  Essentially it’s “Pancake Week” which was officially recognized by www.allrecipies.com thus making it a legit holiday.  So everyone during the week makes massive amounts of pancakes, or blini.  I ate probably fifty.  Maybe not that many, but it was probably close; I’m all blini-ed out for 40 days. At the end of the week, or Sunday they have a big festival where they burn a straw doll, have native song and dance, and eat more pancakes.  It’s also “forgiveness day”, where Russians ask all their close friends and relatives for forgiveness.   Many of them go to church and ask for a blessing to begin their fast, because if they really want to fast it’s very difficult and they must ask for support.

So why is it so difficult?  Well Russians give up everything: very strict fasters cannot eat anything made or created by animals and they must only consume fruit, vegetables, and grains.  Some also give up the three sins: alcohol, cigarettes, and sex. This being said, amongst the younger generation there are less strict “fasters”…  as you can imagine.

  

    

  

Day of Russia’s Protectors (and Boris’ Birthday):

This is a day to essentially remember those who served Russia.  However, it has turned into a “men’s day”, where all the men are recognized, gifts are given, and lots of phone calls to grandparents are made.  Iliya, Angelika’s son received a nice wallet from his lady-classmates.  That being said, he’s only 11 years old and has definitely not served, at least not in the way this holiday was original intended for.  So today I sent out massive texts, wishing my male friends “с праздником”, or happy holidays.

As for me, I didn’t have to work.  Also it was Boris’ birthday. He relaxed fully.  Not typically being a drinker, he went out on Wednesday night and came back very very happy, refusing to let his mother-in-law leave the house, hugging every member of the family (including Nora), and talking about “Russian Traditions”.

On Thursday at 1 pm I joined a friend for whiskey and pancakes and we jammed to The Roots.  And at 4 pm I went to this fancy French restaurant (with “original” French cuisine), where all of Boris’ family danced, toasted to Boris’ health and success, and ate like Napoleon probably did.

      

    

why every one should remain a child at heart…

Today this little boy and his grandma got on my marshrutka.  There was a seat next to me and across from me.  The older woman sat next to me, and the little boy jumped up excited on the seat across from me and tightly grasped onto the handle attached to the back door.  While looking out the window, he told everyone in the marshrutka about the ambulance behind us, and how one time when he drove past the hospital he saw so many ambulances!  When it was time to get off, grandma called out for the driver to stop. The boy however wanted to go to the store first, so he told the driver to stop at the store.  Everyone chuckled and the boy utter a loud thank you when they exited.

Almost simultaneously, another couple got on with their son.  For awhile he was riding silently, bouncing around in his winter onsie and cute hat with a bear on it.  Then the dad switched seats to sit across from him.  The boy immediately got agitated and started to wiggle off his mom’s lap.  He ran from mom to dad and started bawling, sobbing, so loud.  Then, the nice babushkas and older ladies on the marshrutkas just looked at him, I swear they did it all at once and that was it – the boy stopped and stared at them.  The ladies then complimented him, “aw what a good boy!” “such a good little boy!”  and we all started giggling; then the boy started giggling, and the entire marshrutka was laughing.